LITMIR.BIZ

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remember the last time someone had spoken back to him and just recently most people—with the exception of Jared—tiptoed around him, making him want to scream. ‘Good. We’re in business, then. Follow me.’

      He used his cane to tap his way to the lectern because when he was stressed he didn’t do echolocation at all well, and falling flat on his face in front of Hayley Grey or anyone else from The Harbour wasn’t going to happen. ‘I can see light on the screen so I assume the picture is showing?’

      ‘Your screensaver is. Nice picture.’ Genuine interest infused her voice. ‘Is that the Ningaloo Reef in Western Australia?’

      He had no clue which one of his pictures Jared was currently using and he really didn’t care. ‘Probably.’ He ran his hands around his computer until his fingers located the cord he knew he’d plugged into the sound jack. ‘Is this green?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Look on the lectern. Have I plugged it into a matching green jack?’

      He felt strands of her hair brush his cheek as she leaned past him and this time he caught the scent of coconut and lime. It took him instantly to a beach in the tropics and for some crazy reason he thought of a bright red bikini and a deep cleavage. He felt a tightening against his pants.

      It had been so long since anything had stirred in that region of his body that part of him was relieved it still all worked. Most of him wasn’t.

      Stop it. Concentrate on work.

      Out of habit, he closed his eyes to rid himself of the image. The irony hit him hard—the only images he saw now were in his imagination and darkness didn’t affect them one little bit.

      ‘You only missed by one.’

      The admiration in her voice scratched him. Once he’d been admired around the world for groundbreaking brain surgery. Now he needed help with basic technology. ‘Just push the damn plug into the damn jack.’

      He thought he heard her mumble, ‘I’d like to plug it somewhere else.’ A moment later music blared through the speakers. ‘Good. It works.’

      ‘So it does.’ She paused as if she expected him to say something. Then she sighed again. ‘If that’s all, I’ll leave you to it.’

      Her tone reminded him he should thank her, but it was bad enough having to ask for help without then having to be permanently grateful. He almost choked on a clipped ‘Thank you’.

      ‘Any time.’ Her polite response held a thread of relief that she could now leave and that ‘any time’ really meant ‘not any time soon’.

      He could hear the clack of heels and the firm tread of rubber as people entered the auditorium in large numbers. There’d been a reason his first lecture earlier in the day had been to the medical students. He’d warmed up on a less demanding audience—practised even—but now his colleagues were filing in and taking their seats. Some had come to hear him speak, some had come merely to confirm if the rumour that he was now blind was true, and he knew that a small number of people he’d ticked off over the years would have come to gloat that the mighty Tom Jordan had taken one of life’s biggest falls.

      His right hand fisted. He would not fail in front of them. Even when he’d been sighted he’d known how fickle technology could be and there was no way was he was going to have an equipment stuff-up or malfunction that he couldn’t see. He would not stand alone at the front of the theatre, hearing twitters of derision or pity.

      He checked the time again with his fingers, and his chest tightened. The IT person still hadn’t arrived and Jared’s worst-case scenario had just come true. He thought of how he’d once commanded a crack team of surgeons, nurses and allied health professionals, and how their groundbreaking surgery had made headlines around the world. He’d demanded perfection but he’d never asked for anything.

      But everything in his life had changed and he was being dragged kicking and screaming in the slipstream. His throat tightened and he gripped the lectern so hard the edge bit into his palm, but that pain was nothing compared to what was about to happen. Summoning up steely determination, he made himself say the words he never wanted to utter. ‘I need you to stay and be my eyes.’

CHAPTER THREE

      ‘I’M NOT saying there weren’t moments when I thought that the surgery might result in brain damage. In fact, there were many such moments, but as a surgical team we were committed to trying to offer these little twin boys, conjoined at the head since birth, a better life.’

      Hayley listened spellbound as Tom Jordan’s deep and confident voice boomed through the speakers while he presented his most groundbreaking neurological case. Something fell on her feet and with a rush of surprise she realised the printed version of his presentation had slipped off her lap. Initially, she’d done as Tom had asked and had turned each page of the document when he’d pressed his remote control to change the slide on the screen. This meant that she would know exactly what slide he was up to should something go awry with the computer, the data projector or the microphone.

      Tom had been brusquely specific about the job he’d imposed on her, making her repeat his instructions back to him as if she was a child and not a nearly qualified surgeon. She’d almost told him to stick his lecture notes where ‘the sun don’t shine’, but the edge of anxiety that had dared to hover around his commanding, broad shoulders had made her stay.

      It hadn’t taken long before she’d become so caught up in the story and the technicalities of the surgery that she’d forgotten all about page turning. Instead, she was having a series of mini-moments of hero-worship as the implications of what Tom Jordan and his team had achieved sank in. It had been the ‘moon landing’ of surgeries.

      ‘This surgery was the culmination of two years of work, and innovation was key.’ Tom stared at the back of the room as he spoke. ‘Not only were we successful, we paved the way for other neurosurgeons, and earlier this year a similar operation took place in the UK.’

      She leaned down, picking up the folder, and then glanced up at Tom. The tense, angry and pedantic man who’d greeted her earlier was gone. In his place was a brilliant surgeon, his long, lean and tanned fingers resting purposely on his braille notes. Notes he didn’t need because she knew he could ‘see’ the surgery. At this very moment he was inside those little boys’ brains, and his passion for their well-being and giving them the chance at a normal life filled the auditorium, along with a sense of humility that he and his team had been given such an opportunity.

      There was nothing dry and dusty about Tom Jordan and he held the silent audience in the palm of his hand. No one was nodding off to sleep or fiddling with their phone or doodling. Everyone was leaning forward, interested and attentive, and fascinated by the report of brilliant surgery told in an educative yet entertaining style.

      All too soon the lecture was over and Hayley felt a zip of disappointment. She could have listened to Tom for a lot longer, but after he’d fielded questions for fifteen minutes he wound it all up. People started to leave and although some lingered for a moment as if they wanted to speak with Tom, most left without talking to him, their faces filled with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment—what did you say to someone who’d lost their career?

      Finn Kennedy stopped and gave his usual curt greeting before moving off quickly when Evie stepped up with Theo. Both of them greeted Tom warmly and as they departed, two men passed and started chatting to each other before they were out of earshot. ‘Damn shame. He was the best and now—’

      Hayley saw Tom’s shoulders stiffen.

      He heard them.

      Of course he’d heard—the man had almost bionic hearing. She rushed to speak in the hope of drowning out the thoughtless remarks. In her post-lecture awe, she spoke more loudly than she intended. ‘That was amazing.’

      Tom flinched and

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